Four Parallel Universes That Never Happened
by Chance2
Summary: Four universes that Sheppard's team were never a part of…


Title: Four Parallel Universes That Never Happened

Summary: Universes that Sheppard's team were never a part of…

Author's Note: This all started when I wondered what would happen if the Atlantis gang were like the Winchesters, only properly sanctioned. Then I began to wonder what would've happened if they'd become like the Travelers at some point, and it all snowballed from there. Just a bit of crack-y fun. I wanted to make it five parallel universes, but the brain stalled at four. If you can suggest a fifth option, I'm all ears!

* * *

><p><em>1. The one where they fight monsters instead of aliens<em>

When Sheppard and Teyla get out to the truck they find Rodney leaning against it. His arms are crossed over his chest and he has a seriously pissed off look on his face that he's directing at a group of goth-wannabe types, all of whom are wearing t-shirts that riff on the same theme of wanting a vampire to bite them.

"When something does decide to suck the blood out of them, they won't be so quick to twit about how dreamy vampires are," Rodney says with a sneer in the girls' direction.

"It's called 'tweeting', and give it a rest, Rodney," John says as he tosses the keys to Teyla. She catches them easily, and gives him a nod of thanks as she climbs in the driver's seat. She gets carsick on any trip longer than an hour if she's not driving, and they're looking at a stretch of five hours through winding mountain highways.

Once they've left the Twihards behind them and are out on the open road, John opens the file Jackson's compiled and starts flipping through the pages. "More werewolves?"

"Take it up with O'Neill," Rodney grumbles. He has his head lolling back against the headrest and his sunglasses firmly in place. John would bet good money that he'll be snoring inside of twenty minutes, if allowed. "You know, we could kill three times as many nasties if we didn't have to drive everywhere."

"And are you going to be the one to explain to the press what we do and why we need a plane if they get a hold of that information?" Teyla asks, her fingers beating out a casual tattoo against the steering wheel. "You know that the Bureau wants to claim plausible deniability as long as possible."

"Please," Rodney sneers. "The public wouldn't believe in monsters even if a Wendigo tore their front door off their house."

"I'm pretty sure I remember hearing something about seeing and believing being linked. But I could be wrong," John says. He stretches his legs out as far as they will go, massaging a kink he feels starting in his thigh.

"Well, when 99% of the population never sees it, and the 1% that does ends up getting committed, I'd say our odds of maintaining plausible deniability will be good even if Robert Pattinson really does turn out to be a vampire. And I have a twenty that says it'll happen. No one is that pale on purpose."

John jerks forward with a cry of "Aha!" "I knew you watched _Twilight_!" He grins at Rodney's reddening face. "So, tell me, are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?"

"I'm Team Mind-Your-Own-Damn-Business-And-Let-Me-Sleep."

John chuckles and turns to Teyla. "I don't remember hearing about that team. Do you?"

"I'm sure Laura would have mentioned it."

"Mmm," John says in agreement. "But I'm not a fifteen year-old girl, so that might have been why."

"I hope you get eaten by a werewolf," Rodney mutters.

"Oh, we both know that's not going to happen."

"I keep hoping."

.

_2. The one where they become Travelers_

John had thought McMurdo was tight quarters – all those scientists in close proximity was enough to give anyone claustrophobia. On the busiest days, he was happy to be out in the open air, or in the cockpit of a chopper with one or two passengers at most and only equipment if he was really lucky.

At least at McMurdo one could occasionally find some solitude. The Daedalus is a flying sardine can, and getting smaller by the minute. Nearly every single bed is filled, the canteen has to run four-hour shifts for each meal just to fit everyone in, and supplies are running low. Again.

In his whole career, he never thought he would become a quartermaster for a giant flying dorm, but that's what he's become. Well, that and vice principal, ensuring that rules are followed and punishments are doled out for those times when they're not. It grates on his soul that he's become The Man, but apparently someone had to be and no one else volunteered.

As he walks the halls making sure that civilian curfew is being followed, he shudders a little to see what's happened to the Daedalus. Gone are the sleek corridors and the shine of new metal. Gone are the clean lines of a pristine ship. In its place is a machine that looks like it's cannibalizing itself. Wires wind out of holes and hatches and snake down the walls before disappearing into grates. Pipes run the length of the corridors, exposed so as to give the mechanics quick access in an emergency. And the engine room…well, John hates to think what the engineers, what Sam would've said about it. But they're still flying, and that's the important thing. It's the only thing.

Rodney catches up with him somewhere around the sleeping quarters. John thinks about losing him – Rodney's limp slows him down enough that anyone speed-walking will outpace him in moments – but John doesn't really have the heart for it. And besides, Caldwell always bitches at him whenever Rodney tattles.

"We need a new rotation coupler in the cooling system," Rodney says. Preamble is a lost art these days.

"That's nice."

"And?"

"And people in hell want ice water. Guess we don't always get what we want."

Rodney makes a sour face at him. "I said 'need', not 'want.' It's almost stripped. If we get metal touching metal, 'cooling system' is going to be an honorary title only."

John sighs. "You can't duct tape it?"

"Well, I could, but 1) it would be an ornamental fix, not a practical one; and 2) we haven't had duct tape in three months."

"We've got ninety-three scientists on this ship, and not one of you has taken the time to engineer some more duct tape? It can't be that complicated."

Rodney slows a little and John automatically slows with him. "Ninety-two."

"What?" says John.

"Ninety-two scientists."

This brings John to a halt. "Who? When?"

"Gomez. About half an hour ago. "

"Damn," John breathes. He didn't know Gomez well, but even though quarters are tight, every loss is a blow. Everyone on this boat has friends and family who will be left behind to mourn, but more than that, their entire community is symbiotic. One less able-bodied person means more work to go around.

He stares at the jungle of wiring that hangs from the ceiling for a long moment, and then says, "I'll talk to Caldwell, see what I can do."

Rodney nods and doesn't say anything more than a muttered 'thanks' before going back the way he came.

.

_3. The one where they become celebrities when the Stargate program becomes public_

They all thought that when the Stargate program came to light, the public would 1) panic; and 2) cry foul for having their money used in clandestine military activities (not that most military activities were broadcast, if anyone could help it, but the public generally relished its ignorance until it was brought to light that it should have been paying attention all along).

But that's not how it happens at all. The fact of the matter is that a few people panic (in loud and public ways), but everyone else is pretty split down the center of being ecstatic that aliens really do exist and being ecstatic that their hero worship can be reserved for actual heroes now.

The Atlantis crew is spared the immediate onslaught in that they are millions of light-years away, and the paparazzi, determined though they may be, haven't found a way to the Pegasus galaxy. But when they find themselves Earth-side for an indeterminate amount of time, they slowly begin to realize what they've gotten themselves into.

John thinks it a little odd when someone asks for his autograph the first time, but he rolls with it. It's harmless, and this is the closest he'll probably ever get to being Evel Knieval.

But then Rodney corners him as he gets off the elevator one day with a copy of US magazine.

"Interesting reading material," John comments before he realizes what Rodney is trying to show him: a section called 'Stars: They're Just Like Us!' And there is a picture of him and Teyla at the grocery store a week or so ago. He's holding Torren, the toddler perched on his hip, while Teyla puts apples in a produce bag. Under the picture is the caption "They shop for fresh fruits and vegetables!"

"What the hell is this?" Rodney says.

"That's what I'd like to know," John mutters.

"You went grocery shopping without me? You know I hate doing it by myself."

John glares at him. "That's really what you're mad about? That Teyla and I went grocery shopping without you, not the gross violation of our privacy?"

"Eh," Rodney says with an indifferent shrug. "At least it's a good picture, and you're not doing anything embarrassing. They got a picture of Maziar in his pajamas, walking his dog in last week's edition. Believe me, it was not flattering."

Rodney is somewhat less amused when a paparazzo sticks a camera in his face while Rodney and Ronon are on their way to Rodney's car. And General Landry is much less amused by the ensuing lawsuit after Ronon nearly strangles said paparazzo with the strap of his camera bag.

General O'Neill, on the other hand, thinks it's the funniest thing since Conan wrote for _The__Simpsons_.

"Now you know what we've been dealing with for the past year," he says, sounding irritatingly smug and amused.

"If we'd known what would happen, we would've parked the city somewhere a little more remote," John says, nodding his thanks to the barista who hands him his coffee. "Like the Andromeda galaxy."

"Started going undercover yet?" O'Neill asks.

"Sunglasses and baseball cap," John replies. "Which seems a little counterproductive. I stand out when I wear sunglasses inside."

"You get used to it. Teal'c has been doing it for years now. I don't think I've seen his eyes since 2007."

"Something to look forward to," John mutters.

.

_4. The one where it never really happened_

John wakes slowly, feeling like he's been drugged and maybe hit by a semi. He lies in bed for a few minutes, trying to hold onto some fragment of memory that is pricking at his sub-conscious. Sleeping in sounds blissful but not very realistic, so he rolls out of bed, fumbles for his slippers, and heads off in search of caffeine.

Teyla is standing in the kitchen when he gets downstairs. She raises an eyebrow and wordlessly hands him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," he mumbles and slides onto the bench at the kitchen table.

"I take it Ronon did not take it easy on you?" she asks.

"Hmm?"

"You are limping again."

"Kicked my ass to the curb and back."

Her lips curve into a smug smile. "Maybe that is a sign that you should go to the dojo more often."

"Maybe that's a sign that you should hire kinder, gentler employees." He takes a sip of coffee, then adds, "And congrats on not saying 'I told you so'."

She rolls her eyes in acknowledgment. "You can complain to him tonight. I have invited him and Amelia over for dinner."

"Will do."

The back door opens, admitting a flurry of activity that John's mind slowly separates and identifies as three children, a dog, and their next-door neighbor. He thinks two of the children are his, but in the bustle he doesn't catch much more than a whirlwind of bright clothes and dark hair.

"No running in the house, please!" Teyla calls after the children and the dog. "Hello, Rodney," she says to their neighbor, accepting his coffee-cup salute with an amused smile. "John, can you please remember to give Todd a bath today?"

"I still can't believe you named your dog 'Todd'," Rodney says as Teyla hurries after the children.

"What should we have named him? Pavlov?"

"That's not remotely as funny as you think it is, but, yes, that would have been better than 'Todd'."

The two men are quiet for a few moments as Rodney takes some creamer from the fridge to doctor his coffee.

"Jennifer never keeps this in the house anymore," he comments as he pours. "She says that it….What?"

"What what?"

"You're staring at me."

"Am I?" John shakes his head. "Sorry. I had this weird dream last night, and I think you were in it."

Rodney looks suitably creeped out by this admission, but John smiles and says, "Not like that. I think we were part of some team."

His neighbor's expression morphs into bemusement. "I don't know if you noticed but I'm not a 'team' kind of guy."

"Shut up and let me finish. It wasn't a sports team; it was some sort of exploration team."

"I'm a physics professor; what kind of exploration would I possibly be doing?"

"Going where no one has gone before."

"Space, the final frontier?"

John nods. "You were a scientist, and I think I was in the military."

Rodney snorts into his coffee. "You? Military? With that hair?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" John says in a hurt voice as he scrubs a hand over his head.

"Nothing a weed wacker couldn't fix. That reminds me, I want mine back."

"Anyway," John says pointedly, "it was you, me, Teyla, and Ronon. We went to different planets, and there were some freaky-ass aliens who looked like Kiss with white hair and less makeup. Or maybe more. I don't know. They sucked the life out of people."

"Literally or figuratively?"

John chokes a little on his coffee when Rodney asks this. "What kind of question is that?"

"You're trying to tell me about your disturbing dreams, and I'm trying to feign interest. Answer the question or I'll stop being so nice."

John sighs, but the sad thing is that Rodney feigning interest is actually him trying to be nice. "Literally."

"Weird."

"What was weird?" Teyla asks as she comes back into the kitchen, trailed by their youngest child who is in turn followed by Todd.

John smiles as his daughter climbs onto his lap and Todd plops down happily at his feet. "This dream I had last night. We were some space exploration team and there were…" Here he trails off as he glances down at his daughter. Then he spells: "A-L-I-E-N-S."

His daughter recently and very accidentally, he's sure, caught the tail end of some sci-fi made-for-tv movie that his oldest son and one of the neighbor kids were watching. Nightmares had quickly followed, and now she couldn't hear the word 'aliens' without dissolving into a puddle of hysterical sobs. It had led to more than one night of her refusing to go to bed unless she could sleep sandwiched between mommy and daddy.

"Weird," Teyla agrees. "Who was in it?"

"Everyone it seemed like: you, me, Rodney, Ronon, Jennifer, Amelia….I think even the mailman was in it."

"Chuck?" says Rodney, giving John a dubious look. "Are you sure you're not developing some weird psychosis? If you are, I'd appreciate fair warning so that we can put our house on the market sooner rather than later. A certifiable neighbor isn't exactly a selling point."

"I'll be sure to do that."

"Memories of a past life, perhaps?" Teyla suggests.

John shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know – I'm not quite ready to bust out the psychic connection to find out if I was a commando in a former life. Probably just one of those things, my brain trying to process some work stress or something."

"As long as it's not catching," Rodney says as he heads for the door. "Are we still on for golf tomorrow?"

"Bright and early," John confirms.

"Bye, Rodney," Teyla calls pointedly after him before turning to John. "We were all teammates?"

"Stranger things have happened." He turns to his daughter. "Wanna help me give Todd a bath?"

"Yeah!" she agrees, jumping off his lap and tearing out of the kitchen, Todd close at her heels, barking happily.

"You know," he says, taking a step closer to Teyla, "you were pretty kick-ass in my dream."

"Oh, John," she says, patting his cheek lightly, "I am always kick-ass."


End file.
